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yukiobeyme · 4 years

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Would you be willing to do one of the NSFW alphabet headcannons for Beel? I just read your Levi one and it was good 💓

NSFW under the cut! Thank you for the request <3

Beelzebub NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Didn’t really know what aftercare was, just figured it was staying together and sleeping. You end up bringing up your needs or the idea of aftercare. Beelzebub then makes sure to keep extra snacks and drink for you; he even goes as far as finding the electrolyte drinks to make sure you stay hydrated.

He also adores giving you soft kisses on your back and shoulders, holding you close to him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his hands, Beelzebub is huge for a demon but compared to a human, even of average or above-average size, he is massive. He absolutely marvels at the sheer difference between the sizes.

He loves your mouth; he loves how your mouth makes him feel. But he also loves your hands and how small they are compared to his dick. He honestly overall loves everything about you, especially when it’s on him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

The first time you swallowed his cum, he was beyond shocked and turned on again. He let out a groan when he felt his dick twitch interested in the scene that was in front of him. If he ever comes on your chest you should expect him to finger feed you his cum until you are clean.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It’s not necessarily dirty but it’s probably one of the secrets he has kept from you. He likes how much bigger he is than you, he also knows the pure power he has over you as someone so much bigger as you and as a demon. But it’s something inside him snaps when you take charge and control. Something about seeing you smaller and weaker body on top of him, he is completely submissive and is practically putty in your hands.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Is surprisingly experienced? He is by no means easy but promises of breakfast in the morning definitely motivates him to give his best performance. But it’s only a handful of partners but treats every time as his first time. Not necessarily in a clumsy/awkward way but more in the sense of teasing and casually touching you, making sure you are doing okay before he completely devours you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary, he is a simple demon and he loves the closeness of it. Sure he is down for you to top him or even occasionally take you from behind, but something about watching you fall apart under him drives him wild.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Can be pretty goofy, sex is weird and awkward sometimes. And sometimes weird noises are made and he constantly reassuring you that it’s all good. But he also just loves your laugh and smile and bringing them behind closed doors and to an intimate moment just drives him wild. Very rarely is it super serious, those are reserved for times when you need to be reminded of how loved and precious you are.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The carpets do match the drapes, he is naturally not very hairy but he is well-groomed, something about his wrestling outfit. Out of season, it’s a toss-up, It is either well-groomed for a bit but he’ll let it grow for a while, getting annoyed at the length and then the cycle starts all over again.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Is more on the romantic aspect, there is always a date or something beforehand. He tries to woo and seduce you every time. Makes sure to worship you and praise your body. You would be covered with his kisses and love before being wrapped tightly in his arms.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Doesn’t jack off often, after meeting you, he would have more urges for sure. But Beel used to having food turning him on, so for you to turn him on he was equal parts confused and curious. After getting in a relationship he rather just message you he is hungry for you rather than food and forgoes jacking off alone.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Food Kink

It was your idea to bring food to the equation and Beel was more than eager to participate. Whip cream and strawberries are his favorites but there something about licking chocolate off you is amazing too. Likes to be one that gets to eat but will occasionally be allowed to be eaten off of.

Size Kink

It’s just something about how much bigger his is than you. How he can corner you and just tower over you. Your hand is so tiny in his and it drives him up the wall. While he isn’t into power play, he thinks his size kink influences his thoughts about how you could easily break when he towers over you. He also enjoys how much he can touch of you at once.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your room, he doesn’t want to risk having Belphie ruining the moment. Though your room isn’t much safer. Occasionally the shower/bath and there was even a wild incident in a random closet at RAD.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You. Purely seeing you and seeing you react to him and how he moves. Its intoxicating and makes him hungry in other ways. He is being honest when he wants to devour you. Teasing is always a good thing to get him going especially when you try to eat the most sexual foods innocently. Praising and moaning over the taste, he tells you he is the only one that can make you sound like that.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that can be considered dangerous and isn’t into BDSM. He just won’t do it, anything he is iffy on takes a lot of time and communication before he would consider it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving all the way, he takes eating you out to a whole other level. You know that recent video of the Hawaiian Papaya eating contest? That’s how he eats you out, he constantly going down only coming up when he needs air before diving start back in with enthusiasm.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual all the way. Very rarely is he fast and rough, only times when he thinks he was going to lost you or if you spent the whole day working him up. He rarely desperate enough to want it fast and rough, He thoroughly enjoys slowly take you apart. Starting with kissing all over you, ignoring your sensitive areas. Before he finds his way to your thighs, where he will nip and bit. Your hands will be threaded in his hair and voice hoarse with pleading with him to touch you before he finally gives in.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Doesn’t haven’t often, he just doesn’t like being quick with you. He wants to take you apart piece by piece. He doesn’t want you leaving him without feeling worn out but most important he doesn’t want left to feel unloved.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

With you he is willing to experiment, it makes it more fun. He is never too serious so any idea you have he won't shoot down and is willing to figuring it how to make it come true.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go 3-4 rounds; he considers rounds the amount of time you get off. He usually cums twice maybe a third time depending on the day. The first round is always focused on you feeling good without penetration, then focused on both of you with penetration, and the third is working you through another orgasm after you already felt spent. If you are up for another round, it a very slow and sinful round. Beel lasts way too long for your liking if that is even possible but he somehow manages his lust and desire perfectly.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Isn’t the biggest fan of using toys, unless if you express you would like to use toys, he wouldn’t even think about it. Doesn’t own any toys. Though he was a fan when you suggested edible lingerie

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Is very unfair and what makes it so unfair is he doesn’t mean to be. He just enjoys making you feel good and you spend all day worshipping your body. He loves all the noises you make, and it only encourages him, the amount of times you have been close to tears due to his teasing is unreal. You learned that tugging at his hair can usually get him to move on from the teasing but some days it seems like he wants to tease and work you up.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Isn’t very loud, he likes to only make noise when he is beside your ear. So you know exactly what noises you pull from him. Whenever he is receiving pleasure it isn’t a surprise to see him biting his lip or have a hand over his mouth to try and quiet himself.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

It took a long time before you were able to talk Beel into letting you wear a gag ball. He just hates not being able to hear you or communicate with you. But then again there was something seeing your mouth stretched around a red ball, like a roast pig, that sparked a fire instead of him. The sex was rough and desperate, as you had drool at the corner of your mouths and tears threaten to leak from your eyes.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Is HUNG, like damn. Like to the point, it is intimidating that first time you see it, but if you were to be split open… what a way to go. He knows he is huge too and makes sure to always be gentle and never pushes you or your body. The first time you saw it, or rather an outline was during a wrestling match and you were distracted and concern.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Is average for a demon, maybe a tad below average. But he would never turn down sex with you, especially because of the soft and intimate moments with you in the afterglow.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He isn’t going to sleep until he eats to restore his stamina and most times it’s a food coma that will knock him out after sex. But he always brings you water and some food too, encouraging you to at least eat something before he will pull you onto his chest.

#Yuki writes a lemon about a demon #yuki draws #Lemon Time with a Demon #obey me beelzebub #beelzebub obey me #obey me beelz #Yuki Writes!#yuki writes

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ablazeinhim · 4 years

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Halloweentown Musings

So I've been watching Halloweentown every day for like three weeks and i have a lot of thoughts/questions. Production/movie making thoughts, and also canon/universe thoughts. I probably should have just live logged my watchings, but I didn't, so here we are.

The first night i watched it, i watched the first three all right in a row. And by the third film, nearly all the beautiful, effortless warmth and coziness of the first film is gone.

Halloweentown is one of the most beautiful films I've ever seen. It is lit magnificently. Most of the lighting is warm, and there's an outlining light on their faces/forms a lot. The colors are rich and deep and plentiful. Even the outdoor spaces feel cozy and intimate because of the lighting and framing. It's a masterpiece.

Not surprising considering the director of photography, Michael Slovis', other work: 20 eps of breaking bad, 23 eps of CSI, many others. The other 3 films in the series have different DPs.

Look at these:

Compared to the third movie:

In especially the second movie it seems they use the richness of color, and the color tone of light to contrast the mom and grandma. The mortal world and the magical one. The love interest/villian even mentions how Marni's room doesn't seem to fit her and she says her mom likes "ordinary."

The effects in this movie are spectacular. All the practical effects and creature sculpts. They're gorgeous and well made! And they have a nice mix of practical and digital effects. It helps it feel real and magical, because so much of it is there physically. And BENNY. Ugh. He can show so much range in his face. The eyebrows!

Last thing about the production side. The acting is so natural. They feel like a real family! The little ways they react to each other. Especially the mom, like when she's scolding Sophie for asking grandma if she brought them presents. SO GOOD.

And the writing! Marni feels dopey at times, but then you realize she's 13! That's how 13 year olds are! Ready to go out and change the world and really believe that they can! Strong-willed, sure, optimistic. Not shameful about wanting to help or seeming over-eager. Her characterization is perfect.

One of my favorite through-lines is how playful the grandma is with Dylan. Like she knows he's the most skeptical/resistant, and because of that, is playfully hard on him. In the first movie when she's reading to them, he says it's stupid Marni thinks she could be a witch, and the grandma practically interrupts him by elbowing him in the side while she says something like, "you never know, she might be!" And in the second movie Marni uses his embarrassing username/password against him. Then as she walks away we hear the grandma whispering the name to him and chuckling.

Onto my canon/universe questions.

How do magical people age? How does time work? Why is the boy getting seemingly no training? I mean maybe he doesn't want it but that seems like a waste to not at least teach him practical spells and stuff. Like, he doesn't even know how to make his grandma's door appear and disappear in the second one, and the girls just wave their hand and it happens. What happened to Luke? Did Kalibar/Kal ever come back and muck things up again? At the end of the second movie Luke says he (Kalibar/Kal) will be back, but the subsequent two movies have unrelated villians.

The time and aging thing is what I'm most confused by. The grandma is over 1000 years old. But in the fourth movie we go back in time 1000 years and meet the grandma, presumably 18 then (forgive me, I'm not going back to watch it), being played by the same 18 year old actress playing Marni. And the children, half mortal/half witch are aging at a normal human pace. So like, does the aging of their bodies slow down sometime? When? How old is the mom?

In the first movie, the grandma says that two hours in the mortal world could be two days in Halloweentown, or two weeks if they're on vacation. And in the second movie it's established that if Marni goes to Halloweentown for a (mortal world)year with her grandma, it will "feel like" or "be like" 100 years to her. Soooo is whatever's up with that part of the aging thing? Doesn't make much sense considering all the creatures used to live in the mortal world. When they created their own world/dimension did they also decide to have time run differently? For what purpose?

OMG also!!! In the fourth movie, since the portal between worlds is now open all of the time instead of just on mortal-world Halloween, humans and creatures are going to college in each other's worlds. For that to make any sense at all, time, and public education, would have to run the same in both worlds.

There are people with humanoid bodies but jack-o'-lantern heads, and yet pumpkin products and consumables are openly sold in Halloweentown. Is that weird for them, or do they and edible/decorative pumpkins just happen to look alike?

Because this is a live-action movie, most of the creatures are humanoid in form, and that makes me curious how inter-species relations work. Like socially, but also personally. Obviously witches/warlocks are genetically similar enough to humans that they will 1. Become them if they haven't started their magical training by their 13th Halloween, and 2. Can produce offspring together. But seemingly up until the mom, no one in her family had gone off and made babies with a human, or any other creature. So did they have arranged deals with warlocks of powerful magical families? So they could ensure the Cromwell line would continue and be strong? And in the first film, Luke, a goblin, expresses romantic interest in Marni, and it's not treated as anything out of the ordinary. (I very much know love and romance and relationships happen without any need for, want for, or intent to produce children, but there are children in this universe, but seemingly no inter-species families aside from human/witch, so I'm curious if there are rules against it or logistical reasons why not).

Do we think the mom told her mortal husband that she was a witch? I really really hope so. I want that joy for her. I'm imagining beautiful moments of them together. Creating a shield over them to keep the rain off. Dancing in the kitchen while the freshly-done dishes dance around them. Pausing time or sealing off their space to get in one more kiss before they have to part. Beautiful, warm, romantic moments meant just for the two of them. I really hope they had that openness and joy and FUN.

I think that's it, but I have a few other random notes.

It feels significant that we see Sophie's powers, and she realizes them for herself, first. And before the other kids know. The first time she uses her powers AND gets to see the outcome of it, the other kids are distracted and don't realize she's done anything special.

Watching this movie at least once a day has been such an enjoyable experience. Until this year I hadn't seen it since I was a kid, and it was magical watching such a thoughtfully made kids movie. It really feels like it was in a golden age for dcoms. And the way I feel like I'm hanging out with this fam every night. Like I'm being told a story everynight (I mean like someone (really kind. A loved one or beloved famous reader) is telling me a story every night. It's v comforting.

And, Marni's scruchie is gorgeous and I need it, so if anyone has a lead on where I can get this scrunchie from 1998, hit me up.

#i fully dont expect anyone to read this #Halloweentown #marni #stream of conscience #drabble #=

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selfwriting-sugarquills · 5 years

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Heat in the rain pt. 5: Halloween

(Weird chapter this one - George is really just in the thick of self-loathing now isn’t he? Don’t worry, though, the next chapter is hopefully gonna put him back on the right track - Hope you enjoy!!)

Description: Reader wants to make some Halloween decorations the muggle way, George isn’t thrilled about it but Fred, being the wingman that he is, gets his brother to go along with it.

Warnings: None

Word count: 1949

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

Things were quiet for a few weeks while you got comfortable with your new job. The flat’s three inhabitants had fallen into a set routine as the days passed by, you’d wake up first, shower, eat and get ready for work when you would be ready to leave the twins would wake up, get ready and head to work after you. After work you’d spend quiet nights after dinner, playing exploding snap with Fred and reading. George had been keeping mostly to himself, working late with paperwork and perfecting prototypes. You found it a bit strange, and a part of you was almost disappointed but then you couldn’t blame him for wanting some time alone, you figured it would be pretty annoying for the twins to be sharing a room again, even if they swore they were so used to it, they didn’t really mind. Friday as you were picking up groceries after work, you came past the Halloween decorations and candy, now: Halloween in the wizarding world was a big deal, especially in Diagon Alley, where it was tradition that the shops would stay open late, and hand out small samples along with candy to kids and parents trick or treating in the area, naturally, pretty much all of the shops followed this tradition as it was a great way of making business as well as celebrating Halloween. You picked up a couple bags of candy, actually, a few more than you probably needed but the twins had a habit of eating a lot of sweets, it was no wonder most of their products were edible.

***

At home, Fred was plotting how to get his brother and you together. Something a prankster learns very early in the game is that the planning is just as - if not more- important than the execution of the prank itself, and Fred prided himself on a number of plans that had all gone right in the past, however he also had made a few that had gone wrong, very wrong. Needless to say, Fred Weasley was not a quitter, and he wasn’t afraid to give a plan a few runs before succeeding and the major way to succeed was to do your research, which was why Fred was currently sitting in the workshop, reading a magazine mainly targeted at young women, opened on a page titled in pink letters, “How to get the passion back into your relationship” with a slightly disgusted look on his face, truly, the magazine was vile but it was an important asset to his plan. He’d never really had to spice up a relationship of his own, let alone someone else’s but alas this was George and Fred was getting seriously tired of his brother avoiding you because he felt he’d been turned down when in truth he hadn’t even spoken to you about his feelings.

“The first option is to rekindle the sexual chemistry between you and your partner,” Fred made a face like he’d taken a bite of an acid pop, “Think I’m just gonna let them figure that part out themselves,” Fred mumbled to himself, hastily skipping to the next part,

“Focus on affectionate touches:

Physical contact is a major part of maintaining an interest in a relationship so make sure to make time for things like cuddling, holding hands and other tender touches to bring back a sense of caring in the relationship...”

Fred frowned a little, that might not be a bad idea, probably won’t be able to get them to spoon but a hug might be doable he thought to himself, scribbling a note on a piece of parchment,

“Find time to spend with your partner:

Doing a simple activity you both enjoy can greatly improve the feeling of love in a relationship, plus it’s a great way to practice flirting with each other, bringing back the excitement of courting each other that might have faded since the beginning of your relationship.”

Fred scribbled again, hoping it would still work if there had never been a relationship in the first place. He closed the magazine and hid it in a stack of post lying on the kitchen counter, then he headed upstairs, tucking the parchment into a pocket in his jeans.

As he headed upstairs he quickly glanced at his watch, it was ten to five, the shops had owled around to each other agreeing to re-open at 18:00, so he still had time to figure out how to get his brother and you to spend time together. Thinking about the few ways he could get two people to hug, he entered the flat, then stopped in the doorway, you and George were standing by the kitchen counter, bending over an array of black and orange paper, you were grinning at a smaller paper, which, Fred noticed as he approached the scene, had guides on how to make different Halloween decorations on it. Fred beamed victoriously, this plan was just writing itself at this point, sure it was hard getting you to hug George if you were busy cutting out shapes but the accidental hand touch was almost inevitable,

“Whatcha got there, Y/n?” Fred asked playfully, clasping a hand on both yours and George’s shoulders,

“It’s this thing I found while shopping,” you explained, “I figured it would be more fun to make the decorations the muggle way rather than using magic,”

“And I was just saying that we already have decorations,” George said, “Magical decorations that move and fly by themselves, what exactly does a paper pumpkin bring to the table?” Fred couldn’t help but snort, he knew George all too well, and this was a prime example of him trying to avoid something he dreaded, in fact, Fred had his brother’s methods down to a T:

1. Declare your negative feelings towards the thing you’re avoiding by belittling it, as to make sure no-one’s surprised when you bail.

2. Make a run for it and hope no-one forces you to participate.

Unfortunately, it seemed you also knew George well enough to see through it, as you didn’t bother playing along,

“We can always enchant them when we're done making them, then they’ll also fly.” You said, George crossed his arms, “I agree with Y/n,” Fred said, “Besides, it won’t hurt to spend a little time together.” He added not breaking eye-contact with George who shot him a “Don’t even go there” look.

“If you’re so keen on it, then you do it.” George replied, not breaking eye-contact either, Fred understood this as “I don’t want to be alone with Y/n so volunteer and then I can go literally anywhere else” A smile tugged at Fred’s lips, you wish he thought, “No can do, mate, I’m needed at the shop,”

“And I’m not?”

“Nope, Verity’s already asked if she could hand out samples,” When George opened his mouth to retort, Fred hastily added, “She’s got a costume and everything, says she’s been waiting all week to show it off, so I think she should get to do so, then I’ll help out and you two,” Fred strained not to add ‘lovebirds’, “can stay here and work on these absolutely splendid decorations!” He knew that his brother wasn’t going down without a fight, but Fred wasn’t gonna let an opportunity like this pass him by, even the most amateur planner knew to grab a good chance whenever they arose. The two twins stared at each other, Y/n glancing between them,

“By the time we’ll be finished the shop will be closed,” George tried, Fred’s mind was working at top speed trying to come up with a way to spin it, when he didn’t find anything right away he panicked slightly,

“We’ll hurry,” Said Y/n, Fred grinned,

“Yeah, make a competition out of it for all I care,” He said, flashing his brother his best “I’m winning” smile,

“C’mon, George don’t look like that, it’s only Halloween once a year, if we don’t make them now we’ll have to wait a whole year to make them,” Y/n said, giving the grumpier twin her best puppy-eyes, she’s good, Fred thought to himself, as you grabbed George’s hand and begged, “Please?” Fred thought he could see George’s inside melt, very good, indeed.

“Fine.”

***

It was mostly quiet in the flat. George tried his best to focus on the paper in front of him, tracing the outline of a cauldron.

“Thanks for agreeing to do this, I know you weren’t exactly thrilled at the idea,” You said, smiling at him. Normally, he would have jumped at the opportunity to spend time with you, the days where he got to sit alone with you were the best days he could remember, it still was the best.

“It’s alright,” George tried his best to seem unaffected by the way you smiled at him, “what are you making,”

“You,” You said, the smile turned into a mischievous grin, you pointed to the guide, your finger landing on the figure of a bat labelled “Grouchy the dungeon-bat” George grinned,

“I’m not grouchy!” He said, chucking a crumpled ball of paper after you, making you laugh,

“Yes, you are!” You said, “You barely talk to me anymore, and all you do is hide in the workshop,” your smile faded a little, George’s insides twisted uncomfortably,

“I’ve been busy,”

“Clearly,” You said, your lips forming a thin line, George wanted to reach out to you, take your hand, reassure you somehow, then he reminded himself that he couldn’t, he wasn’t yours to do so, he was your friend, nothing more.

“You know, if I’ve upset you, you can just say so,” You said then, your eyes piercing his own, “You haven’t, I-I just-” He stammered, why was it so hard to talk to all of a sudden?

“You just what?” George tried his best not to see the hurt on your face,

I just haven’t been able to tell you how I feel because I’m dead scared you don’t love me as much as I love you.

“I’ve just been busy,” George heard himself say, disappointed in himself he added, “I promise I’ll be around more,” even if it hurts like hell.

***

Why did it feel like George was hiding something? You stared down at the black paper in front of you, trying to blink away the tears that had lined your eyes.

“How’s work?” George asked, sounding like he meant to say something else, you looked up into his chocolate coloured eyes trying to find what he meant to ask but to no avail - when did he get such a good poker face anyways?

“It’s good - the coworkers are really nice,” You didn’t know, as you cut out the shape of a bat whilst talking, but George felt a pang in his stomach, remembering the man he’d seen you with, “and most of the time it’s pretty quiet, which is nice.”

George’s insides were burning now, as much as he tried not to, he couldn’t suppress the thought of you and the dark-haired man alone when there were no customers, how much did he make you laugh? Did you often touch his arm the way you’d touch him? George tried to swallow his jealousy, but the image of the man and you were burned into his mind.

“That’s good,” He forced the words out without a trace of resentment, it wasn’t your fault if he felt this way, you had all the right in the world to be happy with someone else, Merlin knew that all George wanted was for you to be happy, “It’s good that you’re happy,” He added, mostly to himself.

___

Taglist: @lilcutekittykat @proflongbttm

___

ALSO, READER BE LIKE:

#George Weasley #Fred Weasley #george weasley x reader #George weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader #fred lives #fred weasley lives #Fred Weasley fluff #weasley twins #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins fluff

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bubmyg · 5 years

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just another day - myg

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: lovers to...lovers?, non idol!au, fluff, like tooth rotting, aching, falling out of your head fluff, im so sorry ajfklsaf

word count: 3,521

a/n: part 7 of to lovers and a follow up to the piece i posted last year on valentine’s day which means it’s been a year since i started posting bts writing!! it’s been a fun time and here’s to many more fun times :-) if you’re looking for the piece in question, it’s just titled “valentine’s day” and it’s listed under the “blurbs” section of my masterlist but it does not have to be read to understand this piece (although i do reference it a fair few times)!! also, the rest of to lovers is linked on my masterlist :’-)

Yoongi wrinkled his nose at the ridiculously large, heart shaped balloons clinging to a standee chalkboard all while adjusting the, ridiculously, large bouquet of flowers in his arms. His swift steps over cracked sidewalks paused as he considered the balloons for a moment, then the soft petaled tips of pastels digging into the crook of his elbow.

Someone’s bag brushed against the unbuttoned sides of Yoongi’s jacket as they tried to maneuver around his stature planted in the middle of the walkway. He panicked, phone call halfway in progress as he fumbled the device and the flowers all to shove a hand into the depths of his pocket.

His panicked pats around balled gloves and a crinkled receipt stalled when your voice hushed from his phone dangling between the press of his knuckles on his index and middle fingers. It was coincidence that his thumb traced the outline of the object in question, still safe and tied in the thickest part of his glove as he instead traded his attention for jamming his phone against his ear.

You were rambling a mixture of his name and quiet are you okay’s and what are you doing’s when Yoongi’s rushed mumble cut you off.

“How do you feel about balloons?”

Your voice cut off entirely and you were silent as Yoongi shifted his weight, back and forth, until you were giggling quietly into the receiver.

“Look, mister anti-capitalist, you better not come home with the entire Valentine’s Day section of CVS for me.”

A fond smile fought at his lips directly as he made eye contact with a woman trying to enter the cafe. She smiled back nonetheless, eyebrow quirking slightly as he muttered an excuse me under his breath and sidestepped closer to the building.

“Glad to see you’re finally on my side…”

Yoongi bit the inside of his cheek. “...so no balloons?”

“No balloons.”

“Fine.”

He huffed, setting his sights on your apartment building in the distance once more, flowers and no balloons in tow. There was a dull ambiance on the line, mindless shuffling of whatever mundane actions you were completing around the house. It was a few chunks of sidewalk later when Yoongi was teasing softly, “Also, who said I was buying anything for you?”

You hummed, unaffected by Yoongi’s sudden words in your ear, taking his teasing in stride, “Years of experience.”

It was four years ago when he’d, wide eyed and with clammy palmed, fought a middle aged man with a loose tie and a sweaty neck for the last bouquet of flowers in the shop once filled with the very thing. He’d barely remembered it was Valentine’s Day, only truly remembering when Hoseok had leaned over his desk in their eleven o’clock marketing class and blatantly spoken through the professor’s lecture.

“So, what’d you get your lady?”

Yoongi had briefly thought he’d forgotten your birthday and then remembered no, I can’t have and then thought we’ve only been dating for five months, that’s a forgivable offense, right? No, it’s not idiot all in the span of three rapid blinks and the time it took for an outraged expression to fit Hoseok’s features.

“Why would I have—”

“It’s Valentine’s Day, dumbass.”

He barely flinched at Hoseok’s empty accusations and suddenly the box of chocolates and tipped vase of roses abandoned outside his neighbor’s door in his apartment complex made sense.

“So?,” Yoongi scribbled half a bullet point onto his notebook before the powerpoint shifted slides, “Capitalist holiday.”

Hoseok groaned so loud that their professor paused and glared. “Calm down, you can really buy her flowers or something. It won’t hurt your quest to burn the system to the ground.”

Your sweet smile when he’d brought you coffee to the library flashed behind his eyelids when he blinked and the tenderness of the kiss you’d pressed to his lips tingled on his mouth.

“It’s still dumb…” He mumbled back.

“Yoongi. Buy her flowers.”

Maybe it was the stress of spending the entirety of the cash in his wallet or having the evade the angry chatter of a stressed businessman into his bluetooth headset for a bouquet four times the size of what he planned to buy but it happened nonetheless.

He told you he loved you that night, unintentionally and on the phone two seconds before he was going to knock on your apartment door after calling you to tell you he was coming to see you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Ask the life sized bear I found you asleep on last weekend while you were supposed to be helping me remake the bed.”

It was three years ago when he’d dragged a brown bear nearly as tall as him out of the grocery store, downsizing the flower bouquet to a single white rose with a pretty red ribbon tied around it. He’d nearly crushed the petals underneath under the toe of his boot when he dropped the flower in the parking lot in an attempt to open the trunk of his car. He’d tossed the flower to the passenger seat instead before completing the remorseful task of smashing the bear’s smiling face into the desolate corner of his trunk.

Yoongi felt guilty the entire week, particularly when he pried the oversized plush toy from his car and had to stare at it’s frumpled muzzle and ears until it was safely squashed in your delighted arms. It was still slightly lopsided in your embrace and seemed to accuse him for it, stitched eyes following his track around your shoulder to envelop your waist.

“It hates me,” He told you a week later when you’d finally dragged it out of the living room to your bedroom, placing it in the tiny chair that occupied the far corner.

You passed his figure with your keys in hand, placing a hand on his forearms crossed tightly over his chest as he considered the giant stuffed animal with thinned eyes. He didn’t flinch, even when your lips touched his cheek.

“I would too if you shoved me in a trunk for a week.”

The tautness in Yoongi’s shoulders melted then, turning to you with wide, innocent eyes. His trilled whine followed your figure out into the hallway, lips pink and pouted and exaggerated.

“Angel! You’re not supposed to side with the bear!”

He’d decided it no longer hated him just a week ago, the bear having traveled from your apartment to your shared apartment where it had it’s own special spot.

I refuse to stuff him in a closet and you frowned at Yoongi for even suggesting it.

You’d pelted a fresh out of the dryer blanket at him and ordered him to fold it while you redid the sheets on the mattress. The bear’s muzzle wasn’t quite as lopsided and it’s eyes seemed to invite him to lay down on it (even if it knew he was you taking an extra shift away from a stint in the closet), particularly with the warmth of the blanket you’d just provided him with wrapped around his shoulders.

The picture you snapped had spent intervals as your lock screen, no matter how many times Yoongi changed it while you were asleep on his chest.

“It doesn’t hate me anymore,” Yoongi defended miserably and he could feel the heat scratch at the back of his neck underneath his scarf.

“Don’t worry, my tooth has forgiven you, too.”

It was two years ago when he’d ditched flowers all together for something edible, a bouquet of fruit and chocolate paired with a bottle of wine jostling in his grasp as he took the stairs of your building two at a time. The grocery store had been as busy as he’d expected it to be and his irritation with high schoolers clutching their mom’s credit cards and frazzled nine to five fathers growing by the second.

He wanted to be more annoyed than he was but then realized remorsefully that he was apart of the cycle, no matter if he tried to justify the gift in his arms as a tasty snack for after dinner, something he had planned to buy you after the holiday on discount and just happened to be passing through, something he would have had sent to your office in July.

Yoongi was no different than the man tapping his foot loudly behind him in line, his bluetooth headset dangling off his right ear as he crumbled a cheap set of dying roses in a meaty hand and Yoongi nearly panicked that the man had came back to haunt him for stealing a much larger set of vegetation years prior.

But none of that mattered, not the money he forked into that gathered by products designed specifically for the worst day of the year and not the near forty-five minutes he spent under sickly white lights with melting fruit in his arms. None of it mattered when you draped your legs around his waist and plucked a piece of the chocolate in the pinch of your fingers to brush it over his mouth.

Half of your bottom lip was hidden in your teeth, eyes gleaming as they glazed over the treat touching his skin to the bemused, half lidded laze of his stare.

“Open up.”

You spent the entire evening feeding each other cubes of fruit and balls of chocolate in between languid kisses that tasted of the sweets on your tongue. You woke up the next morning with a satisfied tingle encompassing your entire being, only to leave a dentist appointment the week after with a similar numbness in the core of your molars on your bottom jaw.

“You did not get a cavity because of that,” Yoongi told you, pressing a gentle kiss to your swollen cheek while handing you your bowl of instant mashed potatoes.

“I did and it’s your fault,” You muffled back, tongue clinging to the last bit of numbness on that side of your mouth.

He just sighed, long fingers brushing yours aside to take the spoon and jab a mouthful of the creamy substance against the seam of your lips, “Alright, love. All my fault. No more chocolate. Now, c’mon. Eat.”

“Still wasn’t my fault.”

The noise you made was uninterested, “What about my earrings? I have those in today, by the way.”

It was a year ago when he’d forced Namjoon to a jewelry store in the mall, his tall friend full body panicking when Yoongi hesitated at the engagement rings.

“Yeah?” Namjoon said simply as if he hadn’t just stared at the back of Yoongi’s head like he’d grown a third hand from the nape of his neck.

Yoongi hummed from above the earrings, acknowledging the employee who flanked him from beyond the counter with a gentle smile. He glanced at Namjoon from the corner of his eye, chin shaking curtly.

“Not this year.”

You’d cried when he placed the tiny box in your lap, his thumbs preoccupied with trying to collect each droplet that rolled down the contour of your nose while you gaped openly at the tiny karat’s pinched through cardboard.

Through blubbered tears generated from the overwhelming love engulfing you from Yoongi’s entire being, you accused, “These, this, is against like everything I’ve ever heard you say about this dumb holiday.”

“Doesn’t count,” He told you, brushing your hair behind your ear to frame his lips over it, “I didn’t buy these today.”

You just laughed and met Yoongi’s gaze with watery eyes, gripping the jewelry tighter in your grasp as you leaned in for a chaste kiss.

“I would have taken another cavity, you know. Or another, hopefully smaller, bear friend. Or flowers…” You kissed him again, speaking against the smile that bobbled on his lips, “Or just you.”

His fingers framed yours, prying the earrings out of your grasp to begin plucking the jewelry from their carefully positioned placements.

“Want me to put them in for you, pretty girl?”

“Good, they were expensive.”

“There he is,” You murmured fondly, “The realistic boyfriend I know and love.”

“They were expensive but—” Yoongi paused, checking over his shoulder at the traffic before taking long strides through the crosswalk, petals of blue and yellow and pink and purple fanning out behind him from the breeze, “—you’re always worth it. I would have just given them to you for Christmas, anyway. Or your birthday. Or international donut day.”

He wasn’t lying. He’d given you a birthstone necklace on Christmas, a journal filled with poetic professions on your birthday, a delivery of two dozen roses to your office on a day that was probably national sausage and mushroom pizza day in some part of the world.

His heart squeezed at your heartfelt laughter directed unabashedly toward his terrible attempt at humor.

“Didn’t know we bought gifts for international donut day that weren’t donuts.”

“You know I love you, right?” His fingers twisted for his pocket again, phone balanced between his shoulder and ear as a diving index finger make contact with the buried object once more. His steps picked up when he located it, shifting everything back to a normal grasp in his juggling limbs.

Your laughter subsided with the background noise and he could picture you, hip against the kitchen counter, arm wrapped around your middle, abandoning the half washed dishes or the half cooked dinner or your half typed email for work the following day.

“Yes.”

Yoongi squinted at the tower of your building over his head, the structure appearing far too quickly for his liking, the very specific smell of the lobby puking all his worries back up from their tightly balled location in the pit of his stomach. His nerve endings felt like they were on fire, his throat dry, hands numb where he crushed the stems and, accidentally, the volume button on his phone.

“Do you know how much I love you?” He corrected, swallowing in time with the elevator clicking over from where he’d nudged the button with his hip. “I’m not sure you do because it’s so much that I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to properly express it to you. I don’t even know how much I love you. I can’t count that high.”

You were giggling again, softer this time, “Well if you don’t know, how am I supposed to know?”

He couldn’t even be bothered by the bitter taste of one of the flowers that swiped across his mouth when he shifted them in his grasp, the unabashed stretch of his smile giddy and genuine and permanent. His heart swelled like the creation of a balloon and he was half convinced the hammering organ sounding off in uneven beats had grown to the same size as the balloon he’d nearly tied around his wrist for you like a child at their first carnival.

“This just gives me an excuse to spoil you, so you don’t hide my credit card again,” Yoongi didn’t register he’d stepped into the elevator until it was stopping on the second floor to pick up another resident. His legs were numb underneath him, knee caps twitching as he pressed his shoulder blades into the wall and hushed into the receiver, “I love you all the time, not just—”

“—February fucking fourteenth,” You finished, “Yeah, a wise man once told me that just a few years ago.”

The other occupant of the elevator, a man drenched in sweat and carrying a towel, cast him a sideways glance as he stepped out on the fourth floor, amusement on the cock of his eyebrows as he disappeared around the closing doors. Yoongi took that opportunity to reveal the smile he’d been trying to suppress, jamming his index finger into the button of your floor again.

“I love you.”

“Yeah, the wise man said that too,” You mused, “You’re the wise man.”

“I’ll remember you said that.”

“Hush, are you ever going to come home?”

Yoongi stepped off the elevator, numbly albeit, “Almost there—”

“—because I’m almost positive you’re blushing and I’m not with you to kiss it away. Or make it worse, depending on how you’re feeling.”

He acknowledged the heat encompassing his entire being as partial embarrassment rather than anticipation, noticing the cool press of the glass screen of his phone against his cheek with irritated realization.

“I am not,” He denied anyway.

“Seriously, are you on your way home? I want my not gift that you definitely didn’t buy me.”

Yoongi’s cheeks hurt by the time he was centered in front of your door, the crushing, assuring wheeze of his heart that repeatedly told him you’re in love, you’re in love, you’re stupidly in love! almost outweighing the fear that rested just at the forefront of his conscious.

“Yes, just a second...” He jammed the flowers underneath his arm, fishing properly for the small velvet box resting within his knit glove.

The weight of the ring seemed to match that seizing at the stuttered beats in his heart as he knelt to the carpet floor. His phone slipped, barely, as he sought out the flowers, balancing the spread carefully on the edge of his knee so that the palette of sunshine hues covered the cradle of his free palm and the threatening dam of adoration spilling out of every, gleaming inch of his smile.

“Actually, I forgot my key,” Yoongi couldn’t care less if the waver in his tone gave something away, more focused on not dropping the ring, choking on a leaf, puking, and passing out all in the same instance. “I’m outside. Can you come open the door for me?”

He gathered that you must have been in the threshold with the speed in which the door opened but even though he was consciously aware that it was seconds between his request and you completing it, it felt like it took you hours to find him crouched on the floor in front of your apartment door.

“For someone who hates this day, you sure pick out the prettiest flowers,” You were giggling. The softness of your fingertips brushed against his, coaxing his ironclad grip off the stems. “Why are you on the floor? Did you drop—”

He held the ring with both hands now, cradling it on the end of his knee, cheeks tinted the prettiest of pinks, eyes wide and curious in the way his eyebrows framed them.

Everything Yoongi had ever etched to the journal he’d gifted you for your birthday or mumbled against your temple in the earliest hours of the morning evaded him in that moment, the speech that had obsessively trained the roll of his tongue, all that he loved and adored about you blanking. Instead, he laughed, tentative and easy.

“Hi, angel, how was your day?” Yoongi’s phone fell to the floor as he tilted his head the opposite direction, the shyest expanse of his teeth peeking out from his lips, “Oh, yeah, and will you, uh, marry me?

The flowers, already ruined from the flexing crush of his hands and arms and entire nervous being, were cast aside in favor of you dropping to his level, bringing your hands to cup his jaw.

“You’re serious?” Your forehead pressed against his, wet tears already streaking your cheeks, “You’re asking today?”

“Just another day to love you,” Yoongi croaked, the nerves invading his vocal cords now too.

“This is really against everything I’ve ever heard you say about this holiday.”

“Doesn’t count,” He reiterated, argued, one hand leaving the ring to wrap around your hip, “I didn’t buy it today. Nor did I get the idea to ask today.”

You kissed him to silence any further excuses for him indulging fully in the day of pastel pink hearts and the ultimate consumer mindset, sliding your hands around his shoulders as you fit between the part of his singular, bent knee.

He tapped your side with the box in hand, “So, is that a yes?”

“Depends,” You grinned, “Who are the flowers for?”

Yoongi whined. He whined, pursed lips and eyes that wandered over your head and curt but flailing movements of his head and shoulders and hands, voice trilling upward an octave on the end of the last set of syllables.

“Do you want to marry me or not?”

“Is something wrong?”

You hadn’t heard your neighbor open her door until she was standing in the hallway, confusion tangled somewhere in amusement at the sight before her.

The jewelry missed your ring finger, flopping onto your middle finger instead as Yoongi pocketed the tiny box and hauled you up with him by two arms curled around your waist. He pressed his cheek against your forehead, subtly nudging at your feet to move you into the apartment.

“Everything is great,” He told her, dimples pressing into his cheeks, “Sorry for the trouble.”

She disappeared like Yoongi’s flushed features did into the crook of your neck, lips pressing repeatedly into the same spot on the juncture of your shoulder as he moved you backward and shut the door softly behind your figures.

“Yes, Yoongi,” You murmured, “I want nothing more than to marry you.”

#min yoongi #bts #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fluff #yoongi scenario #yoongi scenarios #min yoongi scenario #yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagine #yoongi imagines #yoongi fluff #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #unedited!! as always!!!!!!#another series done ajkdsfjlafd #ok look i think this is cute and im sorry abt how gross jafksjafkljsaklfjdl

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coffeeandcalligraphy · 5 years

Text

Animal Instinct + Dead Disco | Writing Update

Hey People of Earth!

We’re back with another Moth Work update because ya girl has finished two chapters and is here to spill all the tea! If you missed update one, and two, be sure to check them out before reading this one! I’ve been having a bit of cabin fever with this project lately which has made it difficult to really immerse myself into the project. But we’re almost at the 20k mark of this project which is wILD! I never imagined writing so much of this story (which was initially just a guilty pleasure) and I’m happy with how much I’ve learned about my characters just through this small detour in the series.

The first chapter I’ll be updating on is chapter four, ANIMAL INSTINCT.

This chapter was a giant pain to finish! It had about 5000 revisions mid-draft, and I definitely feel like I had blinkers on when writing it. Because of that, I lost sight of the big picture and really got stuck on the little things, like the writing and overall quality of the project. This was not actually the purpose of Moth Work--it was supposed to be a dumping ground for whatever. However, in this chapter, I became really hyperfocused on all the small details I disliked which made drafting it a month-long process. I’ve now come to a slightly healthier place with quality in this draft, and found a middle ground between trash-dumping and nitpicking.

What’s it about?

Animal Instinct is a major point of tension for Lonan and Harrison as their goals deviate. This chapter focuses heavily on the volatility of their relationship and highlights Lonan’s current irrational mental state. The title stems from this idea of calculated action for the sake of a single person’s benefit.

The writing bit:

I struggled to write this chapter quite a bit. It took me the majority of July to complete because of a major logic problem I kept running into. After struggling for a few days, I finally realized by fleshing out what I’d written initially, I could overwrite the logic problem. The solution took a lot of work/test scenes to figure out, but eventually I got it!

Excerpts:

I shared this excerpt before because it’s one of the only paragraphs I don’t mind in this chapter! I think the flow is a lil funky but I dig the concept! This outlines the last bits of the cabin, specifically Harrison’s final check around the perimeter.

Around the corner, the back patio is static—like Anna and her son never stopped sitting there. Her bowl of avocado and Greek yogurt—the holistic remedy Emily said would make her glow like an angel—sits gummy and pestered with flies. One of Milo’s toys is wedged under the cheap lawn chair. It haunts him, seeing them while not seeing them, but he leaves everything like it is. Anna and her son will always remain on the patio, Anna with her cheekbones splayed for the moon, Milo babbling mildly about his father like he hasn’t made the connection. They’ve gone invisible.

After this first scene, Harrison does some driving in the dark which gives me major book three vibes lol, and eventually pulls into a motel somewhere in Nevada. This route from Oregon to Boston makes no sense but I conveniently needed Lonan to end up in Vegas, so!! do it for Vegas!!

In the motel, Harrison meets Jeremiah, his potential new man lol. Harrison is focused on getting in and out of there as quickly as possible, but he’s like dang mans teeth are the straightest I ever did see (me too tho). Because he gets distracted, he fails to notice his car turn off, and only makes the connection after passing it a few times in the parking lot. He minorly paniques as he looks for Lonan, but eventually finds him around the building.

The scene that follows gets volatile as heck, and really showcases how similar Lonan and Reeve are? Like dang that whole family tho? (Can I join?)

I’m not going to share much of this scene because she gets dramatic, but this is the wildest dialogue I’ve written in a while and I think I’m going to steal it and make Reeve say it because something like this would come out of her mouth:

“Do you feel that, Harrison? I could burn you with a cigarette and call it a wolf bite and nobody would know the difference.”

sounds normal at first then NOPE

The next chapter (chapter 5) is called Dead Disco:

This chapter came together very quickly because I’d had it basically planned out, however, it veered into an emotional direction I wasn’t expecting. This chapter was supposed to be fun and lighthearted, and it ended up being... not that??

What’s it about?

After the tragic drama that occurs in the previous chapter, Harrison wakes up the next morning to notice that Lonan has #left and #taken the car. This is v/ not good, but instead of getting super worked up he chooses to chill out at Jeremiah’s place and chill ft. some disco. I meant for it to be cute but Harrison ends up in a mental place I wasn’t expecting, so the chapter feels a bit “derealized” to me. After both Lonan and Harrison head out on their solo endeavors, they meet back up and this encounter ends *badly*.

Playlist:

July 31st Rachel was feeling very enthusiastic about the playlist for this chapter (I was writing while listening to music) and wrote down a list of songs that describe the progression of this chapter (in order + all Nothing But Thieves because predictable!):

Holding Out For A Hero

Crazy

Afterlife

Hanging

Excuse Me

Forever & Ever More

You Know Me Too Well

I’m Not Made By Design

Amsterdam

Number 13

Itch

Hostage

BUT SHOUTOUT TO: Disco by Surf Curse

Probably the most accurate vibe here lol

Excerpts:

This first excerpt is Harrison angsting hard about missing his friends. I don’t *love* her but I don’t *hate* her! I tried revising it but it... flopped, so here’s the failed revision:

Lonan could say those words and it haunts him, how easily he taints him like a bad omen. There are so many things Emily would tell him to do to cleanse the bad magic, but Harrison recalls none of them properly. He remembers words like moon, and black walnut, and quartz crystal, and cardamom, but can’t think of what to do with any. He wishes he were like Foster, curious enough to carry around a pocket dictionary, or like his mother, clever enough to make something up on a whim. All Harrison can do is bury his face in his palms outside the restaurant and hope no one watches him. The main road bustles by and he wishes to be invisible, like Anna and her son. He wants his friends back. Foster could lull him to consciousness with a quiz on the different kinds of plants, which are edible, which are poisonous. Reeve would split a cigarette with him and scare him back to life with her driving. Emily will never speak to him but at least she’d cast a curse on him, and even that’s better than his nullified state of living. It’s disorienting, to feel asleep while awake. Harrison blinks hard, but everything feels the same—the buildings all shimmering, the people staring barely even people, everything derealized like it’s all been coated in REM.

(tag urself i’m foster’s pocket dictionary)

This next excerpt outlines Harrison getting turnt with his new man and then getting philosophical? drunk Harrison be Aristotle and Madonna smushed together idk

Harrison knows he shouldn’t drink around a stranger but Jeremiah’s got a handmade bracelet and scribbly tattoos on his forearm so it’s hard not to trust him. Photo prints of hostels in Japan, statues in Europe, cathedrals in Paraguay decorate the walls in perfectly cut rectangles. Each is plumed with a dried flower and it reminds Harrison so much of Emily, he has to look away, back to the Lonan-coloured drink. He studies the shot glass like it isn’t transparent, the grooves around the perimeter, the engraving that reads Cancun 1987. He loses Jeremiah’s absent swish around him, and gets lost in the blue. The trifecta amazes him, how a colour as unnatural as this has manifested in Lonan’s eyes, his earring, this drink. He tips the glass back and finishes it in one go, and even though it’s strong and should taste like artificial blueberries, his mouth is tasteless and numb.

“You live here alone?” Harrison asks, raking his fingers through his hair. The apartment overlooks the strip across the street and Harrison gets lost in it, the artificial signs like bad advertising, the neons ill like influenza. When he looks toward Jeremiah again, his glass is refilled and he has to think hard to remember if he emptied it in the first place.

This is where Harrison manages to make disco big sad + some lowkey salt at Lonan which is always! a! win!:

Together, they move in a trance, limber and manic. The glass in Harrison’s hand isn’t a weight—it’s a lifeline. The apartment blurs, and waves in slow motion. Harrison doesn’t hear the music or taste the drink; he feels nothing in the ground, and everything in his tongue. His hair swims in his face like Lonan’s, moving like he did in the water, careless in his forehead, his eyes. The pictures on the wall become the pictures in his bedroom, and the blinking doesn’t get rid of them. In his sidesteps with Jeremiah he sees him, in the glass, across the street, under a streetlamp. Taking his cigarettes, his light, his car, his mouth like a cannibal.

To end this update, here’s some dialogue ft. savagery:

“You’re patronizing me.”

“You’re patronizing yourself.”

A meme to accompany this lol:

So that’s it for this update! At the time of drafting most of this post (which was a few weeks ago), I wasn’t really feeling this project, however, after writing chapter 6 and switching POVs into Lonan’s head (where there’s lots of messy stuff to work with), I’ve been having a lot of fun!

I’m sorry updates have been slow on this blog--I’m in the process of moving so I’m getting busy, however, I hope to post at least one more update before I go off to school! Thanks for reading. :)

--Rachel

#writing #writeblr #amwriting #writerblr #fostered #writingupdates #mothwork

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itfandomsecretsanta · 6 years

Photo

Secret Santa ( A moodboard and a small one shot)

Giftee :Cecile @reddietrashh

Reddie One-Shot

Eddie Kaspbrak can be described in two ways. The Eddie that’s small, sweet, always willing to help you with whatever you need. Or the Eddie that doesn’t take any shit, has a hop in his walk, and a feisty personality taht burns hotter than hell itself. There really was no in between. But according to someone by the name of Richie Tozier, there definitely was.

Richie had noticed it for the first time on February 14, the national holiday known as Valentine’s day. Their school had candy grams, small chocolate candies that were passed around school from secret admires. Mike got the most, 16 if we’re counting, Ben and Beverly got 5 each, Bill also got 5, but about two were from himself, and Stan got 3, giving all of them to Bill since he wasn’t a big fan of chocolate. Richie only got two, one from Stan as joke and the other as a secret admirer. Yeah, a secret admirer, totally surprising in all honesty. Eddie, well, he got… well he got…

“How the hell did I get 0. Someone has to like me, someone does, right Mike?” Eddie was practically screaming, already high-pitched voice going up in many octaves. Mike was too busy, indulging in the quality chocolate he was given. Richie tried not to laugh, but how could he not, the small boy in front of him was yelling, jumping up and down with anxious ramblings that no one seemed to mind. Richie’s candy grams laid un-touch in his button up pocket, slowly melting due to the clothed heat.

“Maybe you did get one, they just forgot to hand one out.” Beverly opened her second chocolate bar, breaking it off into bite-size pieces and throwing one directly into Ben’s mouth. Eddie rolled his eyes, groaning as he playfully fell to the ground in fake despair. In the moment Eddie looked cute, but angry. A cute, angry, short-tempered boy rolled around on the floor shouting proclamations of loneliness. Richie watched, amused, more than anything as Eddie kicked Mike’s seat in slight jealousy.

The next time Richie noticed Eddie was an adorable mad man was on June 1st, the first day of summer break. All the losers were planning to go to the water park, a way to start off the summer break, but out of nowhere the plans were changed. Turns out Sonia Kaspbrak doesn’t approve of the suns audacity of tanning her little’s Eddie’s pale skin.

“Wait, so you can’t come?” Richie was confused as everyone. They all had been planning this for months, making sure Mrs. Kaspbrak knew her son would be enjoying life at local water park. They all sat on their bikes, outside of Eddie’s house while Eddie kicked the dirt with frustration. Eddie elobrated, theatrically acting out his mother’s dissaproval of the fun water activity.

“She said, and I-quote, ‘I’m not letting you go get skin cancer just for fun.’ SKIN CANCER? SKIN. CANCER!” Eddie sat on the porch steps, huffs of anger coming out of his nose. Half of the losers found the whole situation amusing, half of them were sad that Eddie couldn’t go, and Richie was more enamored than anything. Sure, it was a bummer that Eddie couldn’t go, but the way Eddie reacted to things that were restricted by his fairly strict mother, always made him want to cuddle him to death.

The next time Richie falls more in love with Eddie , thinks more about Eddie’s wonderful personality is on Halloween. He and Eddie dressed as shaggy and scoob, Richie being shaggy, dressed in a green shirt and khaki pants, Eddie in his regular clothes, casual shorts and tee, with dog ears and a black snout.

“Okay guys, first we’re gonna go to Griffis Valley, they have the best candy.” Mike explained the plan, along with Stan. Every year they both coordinated and basically mapped out the route they were going to take to get the best candy. They began walking, Ben, Bill, and Beverly talking in the middle, Mike and Stan walking in the front, and Richie and Eddie in the back, impersonating Shaggy and Scoob.

“COME ON SCOOB!” Richie dragged Eddie by the arm to be in the front. Eddie was complaining, saying he couldn’t run that fast and it wasn’t fair since Richie’s legs are skyscrapers. Richie snorted, managing to get at least 10 feet in front of everyone. Eddie was huffing, hands clammy for two reasons. He ran and his hand was being held by Richie. It’d seemed like a perfect reaction, until Eddie’s basket full f candy fell out of his hands and partially into the convenient sewer that happened to be right there.

“AWW, COME ON!” Eddie stopped in his tracks, letting go of Richie’s hand, and bracing them against his temple. The losers caught up and started cleaning up Eddie’s mess of candy while Richie laughed and rubbed his shoulder sympathetically. Eddie looked at him, with the cutest glare, and shrugged his hand off. Richie shook his head and smiled at the boy who now tried to reach into the sewers to retrieve his already gone candy.

“Eds, it’s gone, there’s nothing there-”

“YOU DON’T KNOW!”

The next time, let’s be completely honest, Richie, does in fact fall more in love with Richie was Christmas Eve Eve. They were both out getting presents for their friends, but it wasn’t Christmas themed because they all decided they didn’t want to make Stan feel left out. So with that being said, they all thought it’d be fun to do a friendship appreciation gift exchange that happened to occur oo December 25th. Eddie got Mike and Richie got Beverly. Both already knew what they were getting as soon as they walked into the store. Eddie pulled Richie to the arts and crafts section. In the matter of seconds, Eddie has about a thousand different journals, pens, markers, pencils, animal-shaped erasers, hell even calligraphy ink.

“Does Mike even have a calligraphy pen?” Eddie struggled to put his stuff into a basket, cheering when he finally managed to get things in. Richie carried the basket as Eddie found even more stuff that Mike would surely like.

“You do realize we’re on a budget right?” Eddie collided with the invisible wall in front of him. Richie didn’t notice Eddie stop and ran straight into him, hitting his chin on the back of Eddie’s head. Eddie wasn’t phased by Richie’s clumsiness, but now Richie was standing quite close to Eddie, specifically his backside.

“I only have 20 dollars.” Eddie said through clenched teeth. His small fist were also tightly rolled into petite balls of fury.

“I can’t afford all this, one thing in here is already 14 dollars!” Eddie turned around, shocked to find how close Richie really had been. Eddie had always been a small boy, he basically stopped growing once he got out of the womb. But in Richie’s case, did he ever stop growing. They were only in sophomore year and Richie practically towered over Eddie by a lot.

“So get the thing that cost 14 dollars.”

“BUT THAT’S ONLY ONE THING!” Eddie was getting frustrated yet again. He even went to stomping, as if his steps would make money appear out of the ground. Richie watched, Eddie whined, and on an act of some sudden burst of confidence, Richie gave Eddie a kiss. It was short, quick, and in the moment. Eddie stood there stunned, they were currently the only ones in the isle. Richie looked sheepish, hands clasping around the basket handle as Eddie’s face turned a real nice red.

“Did you just…” Eddie finally spoke, fingers tracing the outline of where Richie briefly kissed him. Richie nodded, a firm ‘yes’ coming from his mouth as he walked around Eddie and down the isle. Eddie was dazed, confused and more than flustered. Richie had just kissed him, something Eddie was hoping to do first. It was obvious now, the two boys were crushing on each other and Eddie didn’t know whether to throw himself at a wall or at Richie.

The next and final time Richie proclaimed he loved Eddie internally was on December 25th, Christmas morning. Richie always had a tradition to show up to Eddie’s house for Christmas day pancakes. It was one of the only days a year Mrs. Kaspbrak would allow Eddie to eat pancakes with the juiciest syrup known to man.

“Richie, you’re gonna die!” Eddie laughed as Richie poured half the bottle on his lone pancake, licking his lips as he eyed the slow drip of the edible goo. Eddie had cut his pancake in pieces and drizzled each pancake with the right amount of syrup. By the time Eddie wanted a second pancake there was barely enough syrup left, curtosey of Richie’ excessive pouring.

“Uh, sorry about that Eddie.” Richie puckered his lips and clasped his hands in a fake pleading action. Eddie looked mad, like a very mad, cute, bunny. All Richie wanted to do was pet him. And so Richie being Richie reached out a hand and tried to run his hand along the side of Eddie’s face but it was swatted away with a little more force than needed.

“Ow.”

“You took the last of the syrup!” Eddie shrugged as he too Richie’s plate and ate his pancake. Richie was bewildered as Eddie finished the pancake with no thought. He stood up and checked the area, making sure Sonia Kaspbrak was nowhere to be seen before leaning down and pressing his lips firmly to Eddie. Eddie widened his eyes, lips not moving, in fear he’d mess up the already perfect kiss.

“Ya’ know, you’re going to have to work with me.” Richie spoke through his slightly closed lips. Eddie pulled back, far enough to see Richie’s entire face.

“Do you like me?” Richie stared at Eddie with a fond expression. Eddie felt overwhelmed, but liked the sensation of butterflies roaming his stomach every time Richie’s face was centimeters in front of his face.”Of course dumb ass, why else would I be kissing you?”

“Maybe you only want me for my syrup.” Eddie leaned up and kissed Richie again. This time a long, smooth, and passionate one. It was pure, while it lasted but as Eddie tried to lean in more deeply, Richie disconnected his lips and swooped in, grabbing the plate full of syrup and taking it back to his seat.

“Maybe I am.” In one swift moment, Richie downed the syrup like water and made Eddie gag.

Eddie Kaspbrak can be described in two ways. And a person only get s to meet one or the other, never the both in one meeting. Richie Tozier has the pleasure of knowing and loving both Eddie’s. Even when one looks like an angel from heaven and the other a bunny from hell with large eyes.

Hi Cecile, you were my secret santa giftee! I don’t really ever write Reddie, so I’m really sorry If this is short, rushed, and overall and really bad. But I do hope you enjoy most of it!

#event: 2017 #type: moodboard #type: fic #rating: none #pairing: eddie/richie #submission

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